


No Deal

by justheretobreakthings



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Gen, Hostage Situations, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Missions Gone Wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 11:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18520438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justheretobreakthings/pseuds/justheretobreakthings
Summary: The Blade of Marmora has a strict policy against hostage negotiations.Which does not bode well for Keith.





	No Deal

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this prompt](http://the-wandering-whumper.tumblr.com/post/183893603461/a-team-member-is-being-held-hostage-with-promises) by the-wandering-whumper on tumblr.

“Hang on, I think he’s waking up.”

“Good, that’ll look better on camera. Bring him over here, would ya?”

Keith barely had time to let his eyes start adjusting to the dim purple lights around him before he was being yanked upward by a large and powerful hand gripping the scruff of his Blade suit. His head throbbed and spun, and he tried to get his feet positioned so that he could walk instead of being dragged, but he couldn’t. His feet were bound together too tightly, probably with whatever material he now noticed was also digging into his wrists behind his back.

Memories that had been knocked from his head by the blow that had left him unconscious for long enough to let him wind up in this situation flooded back. He and four other Blades had infiltrated this Galra lab where research and development was being conducted on new weaponry for the empire’s military, with the goal of stealing a prototype of a particularly potent gas dynamic laser rifle. The group had managed to get their hands on the weapon before the security drones finally gave them trouble and caused them to split up, and one surprise attack later…

The groan Keith let out was partly out of pain from being manhandled, partly out of frustration. He had failed to comply with the number one rule of infiltration missions: don’t get caught.

His knees hit the ground hard as he was shoved to the floor in a kneeling position, the hand at the scruff of his neck still keeping him mostly upright. Keith blinked up at the grim-faced Galra guard standing before him, one eye not quite opening all the way, a warm stickiness trying to hold it shut - blood, Keith assumed, from the wound in his temple that had knocked him out.

“This the only one we were able to capture?” the guard asked.

“Only one we got alive, yes,” the other answered from behind Keith. “Gorvok took out another one just outside the pod bay, but got careless with his aim. Got him right through the neck. The others were all too fast.”

“Hopefully, one’s all we need.” The first guard leaned down and took Keith’s chin in his hand, pulling and tilting his head forward to look him in the eye. “Little one, isn’t he?” Keith grit his teeth as the guard’s grip tightened around his jaw. “Don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell us where your little friends have run off to with our prototype, huh, runt?”

Keith, of course, said nothing. If these guards were planning on interrogating him, they were going to be sorely disappointed. Not just because it was against both his personal code and that of the Blade of Marmora to give up information to the enemy, but because he genuinely did not have the answers. All but one of the operatives on this mission were only told to get into the lab, get the weapon, and get out. As to where they were going to take the prototype and what the Blade was planning to do with it, Keith was just as in the dark as anyone.

He braced himself to suffer some form of physical consequence for his silence, but to his surprise, the guard didn’t interrogate him further, instead just giving his chin one more squeeze before releasing him. “No matter,” the guard grunted. “Should soon be irrelevant anyway. You have the feed ready?”

“I do,” came the voice of a third Galra Keith hadn’t noticed before, in the corner of the room standing before a holographic console. “It will reach them, I’m certain. I can broadcast the missive far past however far they’ve managed to fly by now.”

“Good,” the first guard said. “Let’s get started.”

“Started with wh- ?” Keith started, before the guard holding him up gave him a shake and started dragging him toward the corner of the room where the console was set up. As they approached, Keith could see what looked like one of the Galra’s floating security drones being held by the third guard. The guard released the drone when Keith was dropped back onto his knees before him, and the drone floated forward and tilted its front camera toward the first guard, a tiny red light blinking next to the convex lens.

“The feed is live,” the third guard muttered.

“A message to the Blade of Marmora agents who trespassed in our base,” the first guard said, in a sudden booming voice right next to Keith’s ear that did no good for his headache. “You have stolen property belonging to the Galra Empire. This is an offense we do not take lightly. One in your ranks has already been killed, as have several of our scientists. This is… regrettable.

“However, we are willing to settle the matter without further bloodshed.” The camera drone moved back as the third guard slid a switch on the console, and it tilted downward slightly as the first took Keith by the hair and pulled him up in front of him. “You have something of ours,” the guard continued, “And we have something of yours. So we are willing to make a trade. Return our prototype, and we will return your runt.”

Despite the circumstances, Keith found himself letting out a sharp breath of laughter. The hand holding his hair curled more tightly into his scalp, but otherwise the guard ignored it. “We will give you one varga to return to prototype in exchange for - ”

“You’re wasting your time,” Keith interrupted.

“Quiet,” came a grunt from the second behind him, and something hard struck him in his lower back. Probably the toe of a boot. Instinctively Keith tried to lurch forward and arch his back, but the hand in his hair held him in place.

“You have one varga to - ” the first guard started again.

“The Blade of Marmora doesn’t  _do_  negotiations,” Keith said. The boot struck him again, but he continued in a strained voice, “Your prototype’s long gone by now. Might as well just - ”

This time it was the first guard who decided to silence him, and he didn’t bother with the subtlety of a kick. Instead he slammed the hand holding Keith’s head forward, hard, all the way to the floor, Keith both heard and felt his nose break as it cracked against the metal.

“You have one varga to return the prototype in exchange for your teammate unharmed,” the guard said into the camera as he pulled Keith back up. A bit too late for that, Keith thought, eyes watering from the throbbing in his nose. “After that…”

Keith was jostled so that he was directly in front of the guard rather than beside him, and the guard brought his other arm to press something cold and sharp against his neck. “We’ll still be willing to make the exchange,” the guard said. “But the longer we wait, the more the runt’s condition will worsen.” He emphasized this by pressing the blade into Keith’s throat, just enough to break the skin. Keith felt the sharp sting of the cut, and the warm droplets of blood that seeped out of it.

“We anticipate your response,” the guard said. The red light on the camera drone stopped blinking, and the guard moved the knife away, dropping Keith to the floor. Keith rolled onto his back to face his captors, and felt his blood start to boil when he finally got a look at the knife the guard had been holding. It was a Marmora blade.  _His_  blade. The bastard.

“And now we wait,” the guard said. He twirled the blade idly between his fingers.

“Like I said,” Keith grunted, “You’re wasting your time. The Blade doesn’t come back for operatives. And they  _definitely_  don’t make trades for them.”

“Mm,” the guard hummed, unimpressed. “We still have our own team out hunting them down. One way or another, we’re getting back what’s ours.”

“Then why even bother with me?” Keith growled. “If you’ve got your own guys out tracking them anyway? You don’t really need me alive.”

The guard sighed and moved toward Keith, setting one foot on his abdomen to pin him down - and pushing all the breath out of Keith in the process - as he leaned toward him. “If they comply with our demands, it will be so much easier on us and our resources to simply make the exchange and be done with it. Either they come back for you, and we get our prototype; or they leave without you - ”

The guard lifted his foot and brought it down again, in a hard stomp right onto the ribs. Keith had to bite down on his lip hard enough to bloody it to keep from crying out.

“ - and we get to have some fun.”


End file.
